Last Place
by LissaMarie
Summary: Eliot keeps losing things. A kind of follow-up to "Back-Up Plan" and "Comfort" but can be read as a stand-alone.


Ship: Pre-Eliot/Parker? Or is it ACTUAL-Eliot/Parker? Read and find out!

Spoilers: Maybe a little of The Inside Job. This is meant to go with my other stories "Back-Up Plan" and "Comfort", but it can be read alone.

Summary: Eliot keeps losing things.

Disclaimer: I actually looked into it, and it turns out that, with the exception of the plot, none of this belongs to me.

Note: I was totally sleep deprived while writing most of this and for some reason my fingers kept wanting to type "do" instead of "to" and "their" instead of "thief"…Not really sure why. I think I caught them all. Let me know if you notice any typos, so I can get them fixed. Also the title comes from the idea that things you lose are always in the last place you look for them…An idea I always found funny since continuing to look for something after you find it is just ridiculous.

Dedication: To everyone that has reviewed my last 2 Leverage fics. I'm PM'ed many of you to say "Thank you" already (I'm sorry to those of you I haven't gotten to yet…I will soon if the site allows me to). Ya'll are great. (The last ep totally brought out the West Virginia girl I try to hide deep inside of myself).

Last Place

By LissaMarie

_This is really starting to get old._

Eliot slid the dresser drawer closed a bit harder than necessary. After searching for his favorite t-shirt for 15 minutes, he finally accepted that it was gone. It wasn't like it was the first time something he used often turned up missing over the past several weeks.

As best as he could tell, it began with his shampoo. It was so arbitrary that he quickly convinced himself that he had just run out and forgot to buy more. It's not like he wasn't a busy man, between work and dealing with Parker's suddenly constant presence. It really didn't seem terribly unreasonable that he would let something so simple slip his mind.

The hitter also ignored the hair ties missing from his nightstand and the pens that vanished from his desk. He even assumed that his missing television remote would show up eventually (his annoyance at being unable to locate it tempered by the memory of Hardison's face when he lied about not owning a TV).

It was only when he realized he was short a dinner plate one evening after spending the afternoon teaching Parker how to make lasagna that he began thinking further about the smaller instances. It all seemed just odd enough to be something the thief would do. He didn't mention it to her though, more interested in how far she was going to go with it than worried about changing the channel or neatening his hair.

The next thing to disappear was his most recent issue of ESPN magazine.

Then a pair of pajama pants that he rarely bothered wearing.

One morning he discovered his toothbrush gone from the cup next to his bathroom sink.

An empty spot on his DVD rack let him know his Hogan's Heroes collection was gone.

He couldn't figure out how or when the tiny thief managed to remove the 200 lb Buddha statue from his foyer, but he noticed it gone one day after returning home from work nevertheless.

Other little things would vanish, and their disappearance would go without remark. Eliot hadn't even minded when he saw that an old pair of cowboy boots was missing from the back of his closet.

But he really liked that t-shirt. It was thin and soft from age and years of not knowing how to properly do his own laundry. Still he didn't mention it to Parker. He knew – well, hoped – that there was some reason behind all of this that would eventually be revealed to him. At the moment it was like trying to put together a 1000 piece puzzle without knowing what was supposed to be pictured, and he wasn't really getting anywhere. He hoped that sometime soon Parker would give him a peak of where she was going with all of this that would allow him to put some of the pieces together.

His peak came one early afternoon after the team returned from Texas after dealing with oil tycoon who really didn't know how to treat a lady. He offered Parker a lift home since he knew her neighborhood was on his way from the airport to his house even if he didn't know the specific address of the place she was staying after they invaded her warehouse apartment (the blunt thief was surprisingly secretive when she wanted to be). She agreed with a grin that made Sophie eye them curiously while Hardison glared accusingly at the side of his head since the hitter found that he really couldn't bring himself to look the hacker in the face which was something he did not want to examine too closely. Nate seemed aware of the odd behavior but characteristically decided to ignore it. The team went their separate ways, the grifter, hacker, and mastermind each questioning in their own minds what was going on between the hitter and thief who had been spending an awful lot of time together.

It was with great hesitancy that Eliot allowed Parker to drive his truck…Though "allowed" might be a loosely used term in this case as the blonde had filched his keys and climbed across the bench seat from the passenger side when the wide, if not tall, man bodily blocked the driver's door. There were a few corners that were taken much too sharply and a silent apology had to be given to a woman in a Carerra that must have nearly had a heart attack when the truck cut in front of her with mere inches to spare. To be completely fair, Eliot could admit, at least to himself, that he was impressed by her parallel parking ability when she quickly and perfectly fit the vehicle in a spot he had been certain was too small.

There was no actual invitation issued for him to come up to her place. Parker just took the truck keys with her when she climbed out, and Eliot was left with little choice other than to follow her into the building.

Overall the place was a bit more…normal…than the only other residence of hers he's seen. This time she'd settled in what seemed like a standard one bedroom apartment though he was sure from the lack of people and ambient noise as they climbed the building's staircase to the top floor that Parker was the only tenant. The kitchen, if the somewhat pathetic, under-furnished space with the refrigerator and microwave could be called such, was situated immediately on their right upon entering. He noticed his Buddha statue against the left wall between the bathroom and bedroom doors, both of which were cracked slightly open allowing only the smallest glimpse of what was inside. A small kitchen table with 2 mismatched chairs separated the kitchen from the living room area that was also sparsely decorated, sporting only a two-seater sofa and TV set on a wooden milk-crate that was turned on its side acting as an entertainments center with some movies and a DVD player neatly arranged inside. He rolled his eyes when he saw his remote sitting on the arm of her couch as if it controlled her own older model television.

It wasn't distinctly Parker's apartment until you noticed the harness and rope conveniently placed under the large picture window on the far wall.

He gestured vaguely toward the bathroom and, at the thief's distracted eager nod, excused himself. His hair ties and toothbrush were, of course, among her own things around the sink (he looked quickly away from the tampons that his hair ties were half buried under). The missing bottle of shampoo, still half full, was on the edge of her tub. A towel and washcloth that looked suspiciously familiar were hung neatly over the bar on the back of the door. He flushed the toilet and washed his hands to make it less obvious that he was just snooping.

Eliot was quite puzzled to find the apartment seemingly empty when he came back out. The open layout of the common areas of the flat made it so he could see every inch without moving. That left only the bedroom. He turned around and found the thief.

Staring at Parker sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed wearing only his Wildcats t-shirt and absently cuddling an ancient stuffed rabbit, he couldn't summon any of annoyance he before felt over the stolen clothing. Her unexpectedly vulnerable expression on her bright, youthful face brought him back to a time before he left home, when things were far from perfect but there were moments that were able to make him forget the bad. He stepped into the bedroom, breaking eye contact only to take a cursory look around the room out of habit.

His truck keys sitting on the far nightstand on top of his ESPN magazine let him know that this is where he was supposed to make a choice:

To stay the night at Parker's apartment that she tried, in her own strange way, to make comfortable for him and change everything between them.

Or grab his keys and run as fast and far as he could from a situation that could potential ruin not only them but their entire team…their family.

His decision was made for him when he noticed Parker's face beginning to shift into her normal protected, blank stare.

There was no force on Earth that would keep him from making her see that it was his place to protect her and there was never going to be a time when she needed to protect herself from him.

Post-fic Note: For those reading this as a part of my sorta-series, I apologize for the lack of an answer, yet again. I felt this part was better with no real dialogue. Maybe next time. Let me know what you think!


End file.
